


Questions and Explinations

by TurtlePlz



Series: A Little Birdie Told Me [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bleh, Gen, M/M, Took me long enough to write this, Wingfic, anywho enjoy, school and work, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtlePlz/pseuds/TurtlePlz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Company gets some answers and Bilbo gets many questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questions and Explinations

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to post this, School got the better of me. Combine that with work and I just got like bumrushed with stuff to do @7@ Hope ya'll enjoy!

When Bilbo woke (oddly enough he couldn't even remember falling asleep) it was to what sounded like a heard of stampeding trolls. Tensing he opened his eyes, only to breathe a quiet sigh of relief, as it was just his group of darrows finally making their way in a rush to a startled looking Kili.

They all flocked about him, seemingly forgetting that the Hobbit was there for a moment as they checked the young dwarf for injuries. Said Hobbit didn't mind as he sat up and stretched, wincing involuntarily as the muscles in his back cried out in protest and his wings twitched.

“Lucky indeed.” He murmured, thinking back to what Gandalf had said in the beginning about his wings not ripping off. Along with that memory was the one of the noise a certain darrow made that was a cross between a retch and the whine of a kicked puppy and he couldn't help but chuckle.

His laughter snapped the group of darrows back from their circle of Kazad and comforting shoulder pats (it was actually quite heartwarming to see, most of the darrows being rather abrasive in general showing worry and affection) as all eyes shifted to the lone hobbit.

From his spot on the ground, out of instinct his wings puffed up and spread out, trying to seem bigger in an area full of others larger (and more intimidating) than himself.

He instantly recalled his injured muscles and regretted his actions as they twinged in pain and he hissed, bringing them swiftly back to his body.

And just as quickly they were to Kili they were to Bilbo, gently (for them) manhandling him to his feet, patting him down and checking him for wounds and not knowing exactly what to do with the snow white speckled wings that sprouted from his back.

Gandalf broke the circle with ease and, ignoring the protests from a few of the company, pulled the hobbit into a tight embrace, “My boy, what on earth were you thinking?”

Bilbo huffed and attempted to answer but was ignored, “Why I'm sure you are no stranger to the story of the Great Iris Sandybanks, wh-” “Who saved six fauntlings from a fall from a cliff that would have killed them, but in the process lost one of her wings and bled to death, yes I know.”

Kili looked up sharply gave another distressed sqwak, “Wait, that wasn't just a joke before?”

He had surely thought that Gandalf wasn't being serious. Just the mere thought of something so beautiful being peeled off like the leaves on a plant nearly was enough to make him ill.

“Enough talk for now. Let us set up camp and then we may discuss this... development.”

With no complaints or arguments the group set to work, a few going up to gather firewood while the others got to work making a fire-pit and setting up their camp.

Bilbo tried to help, but after multiple times of flinching when moving the wrong way, was told to sit down and rest.

After the fire was stoked and dinner was set to cook they all sat around the pit in silence. 

Kili, who was sitting to the left of him, turned and asked, "So how do people in the Shire have wings?" 

Well, to be precise, he got as far as 'So how do' and then everyone was yelling all at once, trying their hardest to shout over one another to be heard.

"You had wings and didn't tell us?!"

"What other parts of your anatomy are different?"

"Why'd you call him 'lad' you're so young!"

“Yea! How young are you anyway? You don't look like you've even started your beard!”

“Do men in Hobbiton shave?”

Everything melded together forming a rather annoying (as well as quite loud) white noise and Bilbo's head began to pound. He was already achy and them screaming was doing nothing for his mood. Finally he stood and shouted: "Oh for the Green Lady's sake; ENOUGH.”

The camp went silent as everyone stared at their little winged friend.

Huffing, Bilbo sat back down, “Now it's quite obvious you're all curious, and I'll gladly answer your questions one at a time. Anymore of this all talking at once nonsense and my head is going to split.” He grumbled the last part, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes with the slight hope it would reduce the pressure building in his throbbing skull. It did not.

Everyone continued their silence before Kili gently (hoping not to aggravate the hobbit again) repeated himself, “So how do Hobbits have wings?”

Bilbo gave a shrug at this, “As far back as our records go each and every hobbit has been born with wings. Nothing in our tales has elaborated as to how we got them, so the 'how' is still a bit of a mystery to us all.” Kili gave a thoughtful nod but kept silent.

The next hour or so was filled with various, trivial questions.

“Are any other parts of Hobbit anatomy different?” “Um, I've never seen other parts of any other races, but I don't think so?”

“Does your feet being so big have to do with your wings?” “Yes, they help us land easier.”

“Do men in Hobbiton shave?” “No, we don’t' even grow beards to shave.”

The questions got filtered and answered with ease until a question turned everyone on their heads. 

“So how old are ya laddie?” Balin asked distractedly, getting bits and pieces of foliage out of his beard. The company, while still listening intently, had begun to go about their nights normally. Bombour was getting a stew ready and a few of the group were getting their sleeping arrangements situated.

Bilbo gave a slight yawn in to his hand as he answered, “I'll be turning fifty in September, so fourty-nine.”

Everyone's activities jerked to a halt. Bofur, slack jawed, dropped his mattock on Fili's foot. Fili didn't even seem to notice, staring bug-eyed at their burglar as everyone else was.

Noticing the silence Bilbo finally looked up, confused, “Is... something wrong?” 

Thorin spoke up, eerily calm. “You're... fourty-nine.” “Yes.” “Not even past your maturity.” To that Bilbo laughed, “Oh well of course I am! It was a grand thirty-third as any other in the Shire! Gandalf about blew up the party tree with his fireworks.” 

There was a beat of silence before the company roared to life (a very, very angry life). Bilbo only caught snippets of conversations, most concerned that they had a baby in their midst, which made the hobbit stutter.

“Now just hold on a moment, I'm quite happy with my middle aged self thank you!” 

But he was ignored for the most part until the wizard shouted at them to calm, which they did after the shadows seemed to start to expand around him. He sat down with a weary look on his face and an almost silent muttering of 'Dwarves.' before he turned to the hobbit.

“My dear Bilbo, I think this is something that you yourself should explain to them.”

Bilbo gave an unsure nod as he asked, “Now what is so strange about my age?”

Dori, bless him, was beating down the urge to go coddle the poor creature as he bit out, “You're younger that our youngest, yet you say you're middle aged?”

Bilbo nodded, “Well yes, hobbits only live to be about one-hundred or so if they're lucky. Most die of old age or natural causes around ninety, although my great grandfather holds the record for one-hundred and-- Oh dear, I've seem to have said something to upset you all again, whatever is the matter?” the hobbit fretted.

The mood of the entire company went from enraged to melancholic in the span of about a few seconds. 

Kili spoke up quietly, wringing his hands with a sudden anxiety, “Bilbo, most dwarves live to at least two-hundred fifty, if not three hundred years old.”

That caused the hobbit to pause as it sunk in. 

“Oh... Well. That may explain why you all just called me a child.” He gave a slightly strained laugh. “So when I'm in my grave some of you will be just getting to the point of being middle-aged.”

As silence reigned Kili's mind was reeling. He himself had just come to an agreement with himself of the admiration of this strange creature (admiration because certainly, he reasoned with himself, it wasn't any stronger than that goodness no), and now he received the crushing realization that he wouldn't get to spend his life with him.

Ori gave a watery sniffle from Nori's side as he tried to control himself. “You _can't_ die that soon. You won't even be able to enjoy Erebor when it's finally restored.” They all gave murmurs of agreement but Bilbo just chuckled, “Well lad I can't defy death. When it happens it happens."

It was silent for quite awhile, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Bilbo startled them all by slamming his hands on the ground and standing. Hestretched his wings a bit and was happy to realize that they didn't hurt as much so he could let them unfurl a bit.

“Well I've had about enough of this depressing conversation, now hows about we all eat some of that delicious smelling stew and settle down for the night, hm?"

They went with the Hobbit's wishes, and after some warm food and good company their moods brightened a bit.

Only Kili seemed to still be moody, his mind in turmoil as they all settled down to sleep for the night.


End file.
